


Snapped

by Vartheta999



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vartheta999/pseuds/Vartheta999
Summary: Hector didn't mean it.He just snapped.





	Snapped

                                                                 

 

_My dear Vera,_

_Yesterday was June 2, 2025. Yesterday was supposed to be a happy day for me, but something happened. Something horrible. Something that makes me doubt my humanity and my sanity. Yesterday, I let the devil inside roam free._

_I think I need to start at the beginning, the very beginning, so you could see possibly why I did it….I'm still thinking about it as I jot this down._

_2001, the year of my birth. What a year to be given life. The 9/11 attacks and the start of the war in Afghanistan, just perfect._

_I was born out of wedlock to a mother and father, though, she left us when I was about maybe 6 months old….I did meet her eventually, but we'll get to that later. Anyway, I was told constantly by my father how much I resemble her. I had her dark curly hair with matching dark, almost black, brown eyes and a face, he described, of an angel who fell from heaven, just like her. He loved her so much even though she left, and every night, I remember, he'd sit by the door and await her return._

_He was so obsessed with her that he couldn't see at the time that she was just a player, a golddigger, if you will. (We weren't rich, but we had a substantial amount of money) My father was a very handsome man. With his blonde hair, green eyes, and chiseled face, he could've had any woman he wanted, and yet, he still waited till death did he part._

_Though, despite this obsession, he always made time for me because, as much as he loved her, he loved me even more. He treated me like his little prince and my time with him I consider some of the best years of my life. Anything my little heart wanted he got, but he made sure not to spoil me. He showed me so many things, from art to music to movies and books, you name it. When I was old enough to talk, he taught me how to sing. When I was old enough to walk, he taught me how to dance. Heck, he taught me how to fence, but only after he taught me how to dance. He always said, “Never give a sword to someone who can't dance!”_

_He gave me some of the best advice after one particular dancing lesson—If it weren't for that advice, we wouldn't have came to be—I remember he put me on his lap and looked me straight in the eyes. I almost thought I was in trouble until he spoke up._

_“Hector,” He told me, “one day, you're going to find someone and you'll fall in love and such. I can't stop that from happening, just make sure they know how to dance or you can teach them. Do you know why? Because dancing is a certain step towards falling in love. B-But make sure they're a good person, too, you just can't base something off a dance….You understand, right?”_

_I quickly nodded, even if I didn't understand, I was only 5 after all. Then he laughed and asked if I was hungry and we went to the kitchen where he made us both sandwiches. We spent the rest of that day just playing._

_He got a call that night and he had to leave, which was normal. Dad got my usual babysitter, my cousin Jackie, to look after me. Before he left, he tucked me into my little bed, read me a story, sang me a song, and gave me a kiss on the forehead, as usual. I still recall that as I drifted off into slumber that I could hear the sound of his car, knowing that I'd hear the same sound as I awoke when he returned the following morning if he wasn't already home._

_That was the last time I saw him alive._

_I woke up that morning and ran to the kitchen expecting to see him whipping up some breakfast for the both of us, but I didn't. Instead I saw my uncles, aunts, and Jackie, too, all sitting down at the table. I would have been happy if a few of them weren't crying._

_I asked where my dad was, but got no answer. I looked around for him, again, but he was nowhere in sight. I asked again and they remained silent, looking away from me and murmuring to themselves. Suddenly, I took notice of the two police officers standing in the neighboring living room talking to my Aunt Kitty. They looked serious. Cops always meant bad news, I had seen enough movies to know that. There were cops in my house. My family was sad. Dad was missing._

_I put it all together and realized this had to mean one thing: My dad was most likely dead._

_I cried, eyes welling up with tears. If I wasn't already having an anxiety attack I was now as I ran around our house, searching under beds and in closets for him and screaming “Daddy! Daddy, where are you! It's not funny, come out now! Daddy, please come out, I can't find you! DADDY!” while the others chased me but failed to catch me. Finally, after the third or fifth time of aimlessly searching for him, I collapsed to the floor in a fit of despair and cried. I laid there until I felt a pair of arms lift me up. I looked and saw it was my Aunt Kitty and she rocked me back and forth like I was a baby, speaking to me softly to calm me. It was comforting, but I still cried and I asked one more time where he was. She answered that he wouldn't be coming back home but that he was always going to be with me, even if I couldn't see or hear him, he would be there and he'd want me to stay happy._

_I was told a long while after how he died. It was a head on collision with a drunk driver. They survived, my dad didn't._

_Anyway, the funeral was a few weeks later. My family didn't want to bring me since I was so young, but I insisted. It was a nice ceremony, they played dad's favorite music and the eulogy was beautiful. Afterwards, we were allowed to come up to the open casket and pay our final respects, I went and gave my dad a kiss and sung him a song like he had done for me every night._

_My Dad had written in his will that if my mother wasn't found within 3 months of his death, full custody would go to Aunt Kitty since she was his sister and only living relative (the rest of my aunts and uncles weren't legally relatives, they were just really close friends of my father). For now, she had temporary custody. It was nice living with her, after all, she was one of my favorite aunts. Her place wasn't as big as my old house, but it was home. She was a bit like dad, but while his interest was veered towards the arts, her's was science, mainly astrology. Aunt Kitty lived some distance from the city, so we were able to see the stars every night and we'd look for constellations and even make our own. (You may be wondering at this point “Why weren't you in school yet?” Well, I was homeschooled at first and went to public schools later on). I did have nightmares from time to time and there were nights where I cried, but she was always there to comfort me. It was great._

_Then, wouldn't you know it, someone came in and ruined it. Whom, you ask? My mother._

_Apparently, she read about my dad's death in the paper and came looking for me….a few years later (I was 8 at this point). Dad had (I'm sorry to say foolishly) left her a large sum of money. Everyone thought she wouldn't get any because she was nowhere to be found, but the money was wired into her account. She at first thought nothing of all that money suddenly appearing, but eventually put two and two together. Now that her money was almost out….you get it._

_Upon seeing her I felt no immediate bond, I felt something cold and unnerving, and I quickly decided that I didn't like her. Aunt Kitty already had full custody of me by then, but that wench insisted that I was her son and she had the right to have me. Aunt Kitty refused, but she kept coming._

_To make a long story short, eventually there was a long custody battle that lasted about year. That devil woman had a way with words and got what she wanted in the end._

_Living with her was hell, she didn't even let me see my other relatives. She was controlling, everything had to be perfect or nothing. If not, she would belittle me, she'd dare say that I was being inconsiderate making her upset on purpose, and this was just the cherry on top. I cannot count how many times I cried myself to sleep thinking that what she said were true. When I tried to speak up about it, she made it seem like I was lying. Thank the stars she got sick (of what I don't care) and died or I would've done something stupid._

_I went back with my Aunt Kitty soon after and life was great again….mostly. The 6 years with my mom had done it's damage on my psyche. It didn't help I was a emotionally driven teenager, either. I'd have violent outbursts of rage (No one got hurt, unless four of my mattresses and several of my bedroom doors count) and I constantly broke down and cried. Aunt Kitty set me up with a psychiatrist, but that didn't seem to work. I mean, it helped a little, but I still felt terrible inside. Conflicted. Unstable._

_Then I met you, Vera._

_It was almost cliche, remember? We crashed into each other in the hallway in our rush to get to class….knocked each other unconscious. We were taken to the nurse after that. We woke up and argued over whose fault it was and came to an agreement that it was the schools fault for giving us short time to go between classes. Next day, we decided to hang out. It was awesome and we did it several times thereafter. Hanging out with you offered me some peace and it calmed me. You really helped me come out of my shell and I made a good handful of friends. Aunt Kitty thought this was wonderful, especially since I had been mostly a loner up to that point._

_I liked you. You were a gentle and soft spoken person, but make no mistake, you were no pushover. If anyone tried, you'd put them in their place. It scared most people how such a quiet girl could turn fierce in a blink of an eye. You were really smart, too, remember the “Brain Battles” we use to have? And the riddles? You won most of them. All of this, and more, made me find you very attractive. Your great looks were just a bonus, I would have still gone with you no matter what._

_I wanted to ask you out, but I was too scared and I thought it'd ruin our friendship. With the help of my family and friends, you surprised me on my birthday with a party and you asked me there. I remember how much I blushed and stuttered when trying to answer, and you giggling at my efforts. Then you asked me to dance with you, and it was when we were dancing together that I knew that you were the one for me._

_Like Dad had said, dancing is a certain step towards falling in love. We kept this relationship throughout the rest of high school and college. Sure we've had our disagreements, all couples do, but we never let this tear us apart. In fact, it made our bond stronger._

_After we graduated, you and I opted to get a place together. We're both teachers, so we needed a place close to the school we work at. And I had the perfect place, it was a five minute walk away and we didn't even have to spend any money: My first house, the place we're living in now. Aunt Kitty had maintained it and kept it perfectly preserved for nearly two decades, waiting for the day I was old enough to have it. It was like I never left. When we went in, you said I looked like a little kid in a candy shop as I showed you around._

_My life was perfect, like I had seen it in my golden dreams. Just a few weeks ago, I asked you to marry me and you said yes. Yes, everything was perfect._

_Now we're back to yesterday. Yesterday, as you already know, my dear Vera, it was my birthday. It started out good, wonderful to be exact. You caught me by surprise that morning, I thought you were still at your parents and you told me the night before you couldn't see me until tomorrow….well, today now._

_I felt such joy upon waking up and seeing you standing there with your pretty blue eyes and warm smile, holding a small cake with my name on it, literally. We ate it and spent the rest of the day until the afternoon together. You treated me to a movie and a nice lunch before you had to go back. It was sunset by then, and you know I usually go for walks in the nearby park if I wasn't busy and the weather's good._

_When I arrived, I bumped into none other than Iris Newmaker, that adorable little kindergartener. We sat down after finding a bench and chatted. She talked about what she was doing in her class and the big end of year/graduation party they were having, which I knew about being her art teacher. We started to draw and make up stories, sharing a few laughs._

_But, as much as I enjoyed this, I was worried. It was getting late, and there wasn't a parent in sight. I asked her about it, and she got apprehensive about the subject, I found this suspicious. She was always like this when she was asked about it, I just wondered why. I was going to ask again when someone began shouting her name. I looked up and saw a burly man coming towards us. Iris seemed to shrink further back in fear as the man grew closer, before he stopped in front of us._

_“Iris,” He sneered, “what did I tell you about talking to strangers?”_

_“Not to….” She replied, meekly. “But, Dad, this is Mr. Genovesi and he's not a stranger. He's my art teacher—”_

_“Iris!” He snapped and she clamped her mouth shut. “Now, come on.” He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her off the bench and dragged her away. She looked back at me to wave goodbye, but he noticed and jerked her arm to make her stop._

_I was relieved she was going home, but was slightly concerned of how rough he was treating her. I brushed it off because she had been, as he put it, talking to strangers and he was a little upset. But, still, he was being a little too rough._

_Suddenly, I noticed Iris had left her things behind. I knew where she lived, I've had to take her home on a few occasions, so I walked to her house; the place was thirty minutes by foot, but I felt like a nice walk. It could've waited, but I had a nagging feeling that told me to go._

_When I reached the house, I knocked on the door and it was quickly answered by that man she called her Dad. I immediately caught whiff of alcohol. He'd been drinking. He asked what I wanted and what the hell I was doing at his house. I told him about Iris' things and I wanted to give them back to her. He was about to slam the door in my face, but I repeated that I just wanted to give her her things. He groaned and tore the book out of my hands and told me to go and never come back._

_I was leaving, but then I heard a cry. Before the door could fully shut, I caught a glimpse of Iris. She was crying, her hair looked disheveled, and her cheek was swollen, like she had been slapped. There was evidence of something else, something much worse._

_I froze and time slowed to crawl as the thoughts began racing through my head._

_Even my mother, as bad as she was, wouldn't have done something so vulgar._

_My mind went back to the park. When he called her name, his voice was full of rage, not a speck of concern. And the way she was acting, she was terrified. I knew how that felt, I knew how it looked. I had it bad enough as a kid, but she had it so much worse. I couldn't in my right mind let this keep happening to a child, especially one I cared so about deeply. What am I saying?! I couldn't let this happen to any child, no matter what!_

_What was running through my mind hadn't been around since I met you. I felt great anger. Conflicted. Unstable._

_But there was something new. Something so foreign yet so familiar. It was euphoric, it was intoxicating. It was the endless, insustainable, immoral thirst for blood._

_My demons had risen back up with the vengeance. They never disappeared._

_Demons always exists. It's when you doubt them that they come out and attack._

_I lunged at him, tackling him to the floor. There was a struggle and it was a surprise I was able to subdue him, because compared to him I'm lithe in build and he should've been able to snap me in half. I grabbed the first thing I was able to get my hands on—a pair of shears—and with my last shred of humanity I told Iris to run. Then I plunged it down into his chest._

_Everything else after that was just a blur. But I remember his screams for mercy and howls of pain; his guttural chokes that turned to soft whimpers before nothing; and the sound of his tearing flesh. Then laughing, my laughing, as the world turned a deep scarlet, like blood._

_It all turned into a symphony, a symphony of death. And I….I was enjoying it._

_My whole life, I had longed for a sense of control, now I had it, and I used it to take his life._

_Then, I heard a voice say my name. Repeatedly. It was so faint, but the more it spoke the louder it got. It slowly drew me out of my bloodlust until I was back and I gaped in horror at what I had done._

_The walls, the floor, my clothes, everything. They were all drenched in his blood._

_I brought my gaze down and I fought back the bile building in my throat. My victim….I don't even know how to describe him and I don't want to, it was too horrible._

_I screamed._

_Suddenly, I felt someone tug on my sleeve. I jolted in surprise and quickly turned, gasping when I saw it was Iris. She hadn't left when I asked. She was the one calling my name. What if she saw the whole thing? What if I had hurt her? Iris said something else, but I didn't hear. I just ran, back here._

_That was 9:01 PM, yesterday. It's 3:58 AM now. I've spent hours debating what to do and decided that I need to end the threat: Me. I just can't live with myself._

_How could I have done this and enjoyed it? He may have deserved it, but how could I have done this? I'm a monster. I can't allow this to happen again, I just can't. I'm a monster, Vera, I'm a monster. You can't stop me from doing this and you cannot deny the truth._

_By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I'm doing this because I don't want to hurt you or anyone else. I'm doing this because I love you, Veronica. I love my family, you, and Iris so much._

_I'm sorry._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Hector Genovesi_

* * *

 

Veronica put the letter down and she gazed upon the bloodied, disheveled man who sat in front of her. She, thankfully, had gotten back earlier than Hector had expected and she was able to stop him before he could do anything drastic. At first, she thought he had gotten into a fight….a very bloody one at that….but when she asked, he just handed her the letter and sat on the floor opposite the bed with his head down, without saying a thing. He still hadn't said anything.

She didn't know about his mother, he never told her. He never mentioned his problems with anger in his youth, not even when they were kids. Almost everything in the letter was big news to her. She wondered why he never told her any of this, she could've helped him. She wondered about a lot of things.

Like, why she wasn't scared of him after what he did. In fact, she felt a twinge of compassion and concern. Maybe she was blinded by love, but she knew he never wanted to kill, even if the person was malevolent. He just acted in the moment, he wasn't a monster. If he was, he wouldn't be feeling such remorse. He needed to know that.

Veronica took his hand in an attempt to offer some comfort, but he drew back.

 “Don't touch me!” Hector snapped, breaking the silence and his voice wavering, like he was going to cry. “Don't touch me, Vera….”

“Hector….it's okay,” Vera took his hand again but he pulled his hand away. “Hector—”

"Why do you insist on staying with me? You'll only get hurt. If you're caught with me, you'll be charged with aiding and abetting. Just go, please,” He begged and waited for her to leave. And she did, which surprised him.

He was going to continue with the deed he assigned to himself, but then she came back, placing a bucket and a few small towels in front of him. She sat down and she grabbed a towel, dipping it in the warm, soapy water before proceeding to clean the blood on his face. Hector stared at her, dumbfounded by the fact she was taking all of this so well.

Why though? He was going to get caught eventually and everything would be ruined for them. “Aren't you disgusted by me? Scared? What about upset?”

“Disgusted, no. Scared, no, but unsettled. Upset, definitely,” She frowned, lifting his chin up with a free hand to make it easier to clean a certain spot. “Why haven't you ever told me?”

“I….I thought you'd think badly of me….” He said, shamefully.

“I wouldn't have, Hector,” She dipped the towel in the bucket again. “….It hurts that you felt you couldn't tell me. Don't you trust me?”

“I do….why don't you hate me?” He asked. “I killed someone, Vera….I tore him apart.” He choked on a sob as he began to cry. “Can't you see what's wrong with that? I can't live with myself knowing that….You should have just let me—”

Before he could finish, Vera wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. Hector didn't pull away from her touch this time, he embraced her back and sobbed into her shoulder.

“Shh…..” She cooed softly to soothe him, rocking them both slowly back and forth. “Just think of why you did it....”

“I did it so he wouldn't hurt Iris again….She looked so scared, I wanted to protect her,” He murmured, sniffling. “I did it because I was so angry that he'd do that to such a beautiful little girl and I just….I just let him have it….”

“You did it to protect her….”

“So I did….but I still killed him,” He sighed, releasing her and scowling. “I enjoyed it. That's inhuman. That is monstrous!”

“But, you're feeling remorse,” She pointed out. “That is human. You are a human. You acted as a human. You may have taken a life, but you did it to protect another.”

Hector gave a her look, like he understood her, before he went back to silence and she to cleaning up the blood. He remained mute for some time, enough time for him to take a full shower and think about what she had said.

It was all true, maybe, and it made him feel better, but something still made him feel uneasy and it nagged him; What did Iris think of him and would she be alright? He went to bed with that question still burning in his mind.

 

“Hector….Hector wake up!”

Hector jolted awake and gasped, wanting to faint at the sight before him that gave him a sense of relief, but also shocked him.

Veronica was standing in front of him and she was holding a little girl with green eyes and short, blonde, curly hair in her arms, who smiled at him.

“Hector!” The child chimed happily, jumping out of Vera's arms, onto his lap, and she hugged him.

“I-Iris??” He stammered and hugged her back. “W-What—How are you ev—Vera?”

“She walked over here from her house,” Vera answered, looking just as bewildered as he was, “and it took a while because she says she got lost.”

“Oh….” He looked at Iris and she looked back with a joyful eyes, like she didn't care about what he had done earlier and was just as happy to see him as always, “is that true, Iris?” She nodded and nuzzled him. “Why?”

“I wanted to be with you guys and….” She trailed off for a moment and looked away bashfully, like she was somewhat ashamed, “I wanted to say thank you for what you did….I didn't want you to get in trouble….”

“Iris, what do you—” Hector tried to ask but he was cut off by her yawning.

“Can I go to sleep now?” She yawned again, all her previous energy seemingly fading away and she laid her head on his shoulder, and just like that, she fell asleep.

He smiled and carried her to his old room, which they had left untouched but cleaned regularly, and he laid her down on the bed before tucking her in. He looked down on her as she slept with a sort of fondness and relief.

Relief over the fact she bared no ill will towards him and relief over the fact she was alright. Everyone and everything was okay….But what would they do now?

“Hector, can I borrow you for a minute?” Vera asked with a hint of urgency when she popped her head through the door, derailing his train of thought. He quietly got up and followed Vera out, wondering what this was about despite the obvious things.

“Hector,” She began when they reached the living room and picked up a small baby blue bag from the couch, “you're not going to believe what I found in Iris' bag.”

“What did you find?” He asked, snatching it from her grasp and opening it. Upon looking inside he gasped, breaking into a cold sweat.

There, in a clear plastic bag among some clothes, were a pair of large shears caked in some brown substance; dried blood.

Those were the same shears he used to—

“This….” He gulped, “This is….”

 She nodded, “I know.”

“So that's what she meant when she….But, how would she know about evidence,” He said quizzically, “she's only 4.”

“Well, you did mention she has an interest in crime shows….So, what now?” Vera asked.

‘What now?’ That was the million dollar question.

The two looked at each other, and after some shared uncertainty, they smiled, sharing an embrace and a small kiss before Hector went and picked up a phone.

“Yes, hello,” He began, squeezing onto Vera's hand for support, “I'd like to report a possible murder.”

_A year later…._

Iris clamped her mouth shut and tried not to make a sound or even breathe….well, not to loud at least.

This was it, there was nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide.

She was done for.

“Aha!” A voice growled. She had no time to plan her escape as the door to the closet she was hiding in swung open and she was swept off the ground by a pair of strong arms.

“I got you!” They laughed maniacally, and she screamed for mercy as they began to viciously, without mercy—

“S-STOP!!” She squealed happily as she was hit with a barrage of tickling fingers and she squirmed. “I-I gotta—Ha! I-I'm gonna pee!”

….to tickle her.

“What's the magic word?” Hector asked and continued his attack, peppering her open stomach with light, feathery touches and earning a giggle with each.

“Uncle! UNCLE!” She laughed.

“Wrong answer!” He smirked. “I'm not your uncle, I'm your—”

“Daddy! Daddy!” She giggled. “Where's Mommy? I thought she was playing, too.”

“She went to get your bed ready,” He answered, “because it's time to sleep.”

“Nooooooo….” She whined as she was carried away, “I don't wanna….”

“But, you have to, kitten, it's late.” He explained. “We're going to Aunt Kitty's tomorrow, you know it's a long drive.”

Iris murmured in disapproval, not at going to see her, but at the fact she couldn't stay up.

“What about this, I'm going to make a deal with you,” He lifted her chin up with a curled finger so she would face him and he relayed his conditions. “If you're a good girl, you could stay up tomorrow and we could all look at the stars. Be a super good girl, and we could stay up to see the sunrise. Deal?”

She grinned and nodded eagerly.

“You found Iris, Hector?” Vera inquired when they had reached her room, a remodeled version of his childhood room.

“Yup,” He placed her on her bed and she scurried under the covers. “She was hiding in the broom closet this time.”

“See? I told you,” She gloated, “now pay up, Mr. Genovesi.”

Hector rolled his eyes and reluctantly gave her a dollar, glaring at her, “Next time, Mrs. Genovesi, next time.” He growled, playfully. “You won't be so lucky….”

“Oh yeah?” She smirked. “What are you going to do, dear?”

“I may just—”

“Ahem,” Iris cleared her throat to get their attention and held up a book, Fairytales & Short Stories by Hans Christian Andersen.

“Oh, you want a story?” They asked.

“Mhmm,” Iris nodded and opened the book to a certain story and pointed to it, “this one.”

Vera bent down, and after silently reading the title, she smiled. “The Steadfast Tin Soldier? I love this story!”

“Really, Mommy?” The little girl beamed.

“Another reason to read it!” Hector exclaimed.

They both took the book from Iris, and after the two adults found a comfortable position to read it together, they began the story while Iris listened intently, “There were once five and twenty tin soldiers. They were brothers, for they had all been made out of the same old tin spoon. They all shouldered their bayonets, held themselves upright, and looked straight before them. Their uniforms were very smart-looking—red and blue—and very splendid. And each was exactly like the rest to a hair, except one who had but one leg….”

At the end of the story, Iris gladly fell asleep and her parents saw themselves to bed after tucking her in.

As Hector laid in bed, he smiled. He had everything he ever could of wanted and his life was perfect, if not more so.

He had a nice house and a good job. But most of all, he was with the girl of his dreams and they had a beautiful daughter (with another child on the way), whom he loved with every fibre of his being and loved him back just the same. And he would protect them until his final breath, even if he had to kill again to do so

  
  
                                                             


End file.
